


Set my anger free

by TinyThoughts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Flirting, Concerts, Drarry, Drummer Draco, Harry loves watching Draco on stage, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Metal Music, so much tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyThoughts/pseuds/TinyThoughts
Summary: Draco Malfoy plays drums in a relatively successful and angry as fuck band. Harry finds out by seeing them on stage and finds out he's a fan.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Songs to set the mood:
> 
> Rot - Dry kill logic  
Rock bottom - Five Finger Death Punch

The music is very loud and very angry.

Harry tries to make his way towards his friends from the bar. The place is full, some of the better rock bands are playing tonight.

The thing about concerts, and particularly the angry loud sort, brings out very happy, very drunk and most of all, very,_ very_ energetic people.

They jump around, dance around in mosh pits or just headbang like maniacs.

It’s over all amazing, except when trying to maneuver five or so beers between it all.

Harry feels every drumbeat in his lungs, the floor is sticky under his shoes.

The scene light flashes red and blue, it’s hot, the room smells like sweat and energy.

Left of the stage close to the speakers he can see his friends, Ron with his arms around Hermione, Luna bouncing up and down slightly offbeat nodding her head, Parvati and Ginny are most likely somewhere in the moshpit.

An elbow hits Harry in the ribs, almost sending all the beers flying. He sends the owner of the elbow a glare, only to stop short.

“Malfoy?”

It must be Malfoy.

A pale body in a loose tanktop, tight black jeans ripped at the knees. His pale hair is shaved short in the neck but on top the pale strands falls down to his jaw and in his face.

His left arm is entirely covered in tattoos and he’s moving his body in time to the music.

The singer on the stage screams and the entire bar screams with him. Malfoy is so wrapped up in the music he doesn't seem even noticed bumping into him.

Harry staggers over to Ron with the beers, quickly handing them out.

“Be right back” he says to none of them in particular and goes straight back to where he saw Malfoy.

The song finishes up, the crowd roars in approval, Malfoy along with them arms in the air.

Harry is just about to approach him when another guy with large muscles and long black hair grabs Malfoys shoulder and shouts in his ear, nodding towards the stage.

Another song starts up, the guitar sharp and fast.

Malfoy gives the guy a grin that’s mostly teeth and walks away with him.

Frowning Harry walks back towards their spot, not sure why he is dejected. He gets his glass back from Hermione and sips on it while scanning the crowds.

Parvati emerges from the throngs of people, grabs a beer from Ron and drains it in one go.

“This song sucks” she says and wipes the foam from her lip, smiling.

“Aaw, didn’t you save any beer for me asshole?” Ginny shuffles out from behind Parvati and snatches the beer glass from out of her hand.

She holds it over her mouth holding her tongue out.

“You said you didn’t want one!” Parvati says, mock offended.

“Fine, I’ll go get my own. This song sucks anyway.”

“_Right_?!” Parvati calls after her when Ginny pushes through the people.

Luna stands by Harry's shoulder.

“Where did you go?” She shouts at him, still slightly moving around to the beat.

“I just thought I saw someone.” He shouts back.

“You probably did.“ Luna nods at him seriously. “Don’t worry, you will see him again soon.”

Harry has to look at her then, smiling fondly.

“You never cease to amaze me, you know that right?” He shouts at her, while putting his arm around her and squeezing her shoulder.

She beams back up at him, her eyes sparkling from the black makeup Ginny put on her before they left.

“You look good tonight Harry” She gives Harry her drink and hooks arms with Parvati.

“Parvati, would you kindly show me how to mosh?” Patvati throws her head back and laughs.

“Sure little bird, but first we need to secure your hair!”

She quickly braids it and then leads them back into the mayhem of moving bodies.

Harry stands there for a while, just enjoying the music.

He hasn’t been out much lately, too much to do in the ministry with all the charity things and galas and whatnots.

He just came home from a two month trip in Egypt. It feels good to just be Harry, not the Boy Who Lived.

In here people didn’t care. There is a feeling of freedom while riding the waves of energy music brings.

The singer growls, his head bowed in effort. His eyes squeezed shut, sweat running down his brow.

The guitarist slams the last tones and let them fade out.

The crowd roars, the band thanks them and walks off stage.

“Look who I found!” Chirps a voice behind them.

Ginny drags Goyle behind her with an already two thirds empty beer glass in her other hand. G

oyle greets them all with a nervous smile and a little wave.

It’s been at least a year since Harry last saw him.

“You here alone tonight, Greg?” Hermione asks him. ...Greg?

“Nah, Draco and Blaise is here too. They’ll be back with me after the show.”

Harry frowns. Everybody else nods as if they all know what that means.

Harry is just about to ask when a man walks out onto the stage, presenting the next band.

“You all know them, you all love them! Welcome back, _Crowbaaaar_!”

If the crowd was loud before, it possibly explodes now.

“Ooooh, here they come!” Ginny bounces excitedly, she still hasn’t let go of Goyles arm.

Harry looks up at the stage.

And drops his chin right on the floor.

Up on the stage, four guys walk out.

The muscular guy with the long hair, a guitar thrown in his arms, a tiny guy with no hair and a large beard, Blaise Fucking Zabini with a bass, his hair artfully tousled and a dark look

and.

Draco. Malfoy.

With drumsticks in his hand.

All of them have a dark, angry look.

Except for Malfoy. Malfoy looks like he is in his element, his loose tanktop showing of parts of a pale chest when he leans forward.

He puts his hands behind his ears, waves his hands upwards in a motion for the people to be louder.

Somehow they are.

Malfoy grins wildly and heads towards the drums.

Harry is vaguely aware that his mouth is still open. He is vaguely aware of Hermione sliding up next to him, an arm around his waist.

He only gets his bearings back when she actually puts her fingers under his chin and closes his mouth.

“What the fuck!” Harry cires. “What! The! Fuck! Since when is he in a band?!”

Hermione watches him with a smug smirk on her lips. Harry feels hot, overheated.

“You fucking_ knew?_!” he shouts accusingly.

“Harry, seriously, how can you not know?” Ginny sounds shocked. “Crowbar have been around for at least two years, they even played on last years halloween carneval!”

Harry glares at her, and Hermione and then at Ron and Goyle for good measure.

His eyes stray back to the scene where the band is taking their places.

The short guy takes the mike, taps it.

Zabini puts a bottle of beer next to a speaker, the muscle guy presses down on a sound pedal.

And Malfoy. Sits behind the drums, adjusts the height on his seat, moves the hi-hat to his liking.

He looks over the crowd, smiling, twirling the drumsticks between his fingers.

When muscle-guy nods, Malfoy counts them in on the hi-hat. And the show begins.

And Harry looses it again.

Ginny and Goyle disappears in the crowd, Hermione's fingers digging into his side.

The music is wild, angry, unforgiving.

People jump up and down, singing the lyrics with the bearded guy.

Zabini moves on the stage like he owns it, his eyes sharp and hawklike. He looks sexy as hell, and glares like everyone in the room insulted his mother.

The muscle-guy keeps his eyes on his guitar, playing complicated riffs.

And Malfoy. He plays the drum with fluid motion that ooze of joy.

And he is good.

Very good.

They all are. At least Harry thinks so, he can’t seem to focus properly.

“He looks good, doesn’t he?” Hermione shouts smugly in his ear.

And Harry can’t answer.

Not even when Ron joins up on his other side and shouts at him too.

“How could you not have known? Why did you think we went here tonight?”

All Harry sees is Draco mouthing along to the lyrics, which he suddenly hears. T

he beat of the drum pulses inside Harry's body, a second heartbeat.

_Set my anger free _   
_You keep trying to hurt me _   
_Something has to be done _   
_Before I come undone _

_It’s a war and children are out there _   
_We are them and we have nowhere _   
_To gooooo _

Parvati and Luna appears in front of them, looking a bit battered but happy.

Luna waves a hand in front of Harry's face, but he doesn’t even blink.

Parvati steals his glass right out of his hands and takes a few big gulps, handing it over to Luna next. She finishes it, puts it back in Harry's hand and they disappear in the masses again.

Hermione laughs loudly, and Ron thumps Harry in the back.

“Come on, mate, snap out of it! Your drink just got stolen.”

“Im sorry, what?” Harry looks down at his hand, frowns, and looks back at Ron. “What do you mean, why we went here tonight?”

“Yeah? It’s Malfoy's birthday and he’s throwing a party at his place after this. Have you been listening to a word I said this week?” Ron looks affronted and amused and Harry … well Harry did not expect that.

“Sorry, I had a lot on my mind. But what, we… we are invited?” Harry gives Ron a sceptical look, attempt to sip on his beer and… right. It got stolen.

“Totally. I mean, Goyle is seeing Ginny now so--”

“Wait. No. You’re lying. Now you are just making shit up, they are not--!”

Hermione grabs Harry's head and angles it towards the room.   
Where Goyle and Ginny stands.   
Kissing.

Merlin's saggy balls, what is going on?

He’s aware he’s been out of it for a while, but this is insane. How freaking much can happen in two months?

He eyes Rons drink, who simply hands it over. Grateful he sips it, his mouth is awfully dry.

He looks back up at the stage, towards a certain blond and gets his next near death experience right then and there.

Malfoy is looking straight at him, and Harry's drink decided it much rather be in his windpipe instead.

He coughs, blinking fast, but can’t take his eyes off the stage.

The song has ended and the muscle-guy starts the next song.

Without taking his eyes off Harry he twirls the drumsticks and then beat the shit out of his cymbals.

Harry blinks a few times, and looks hastily to the others on the scene.

The singer and muscle-guy is behaving normally, running around and screaming, encouraging the crowd to jump.

But Blaise fucking Zabini is leaning over one of the speakers, staring att Harry and giving him a _Eat shit_ smile.   
It looks like it’s to him anyway.

Harry frowns and looks back at Malfoy, who is giving him… well, not an Eat shit smile. But a smug smirk, and a _Wink_.

Harry's insides are doing funny things and he feels overheated.

Did Malfoy just wink… at him?

At Harry Potter, his childhood nemesis?

“Did Draco Malfoy just wink at you, Harry?!” Hermione pulls at his arm, excited. “You saw that too right?! It must have been Harry he winked at Ron, did you see!”

“Can you not?” Harry frees his arm from Hermione's evil claws and gives her a halfhearted glare.

She just laughs at him some more, and Harry looks miserably at Ron.

“How many drinks have they fed her before I got here?” He asks him. Ron just shrugs.

Harry decides that the rest of the show he won't look at Malfoy at all.

It works for like, five minutes at the time.

He is really gorgeous behind the drums, red and blue lights shining in his hair, sweat making his tanktop cling to his slim frame.

He is again engulfed by his music, moving his body to the rhythm.

Harry himself can’t help but move a little too, the music is too good to stand still.

_You can push me around _   
_but you can’t break me _   
_I’ll take it, make it mine, _   
_I’ll make it fucking better_

Harry reads the words on Draco’s lips, and he wonders who writes what in their music.

It could mean anything, but he thinks it means something specific.

_Watch me take it, _   
_make it mine, _   
_make it fucking better _   
_Watch me take your fucking breath away _

Malfoy meets Harry's eyes, and it does indeed take his breath away.

The crowd sings it back to them, fists pumping in the air. He feels like there are sparks under his skin, begging to be let out.

Malfoy looks away first, and Harry decides he’s had enough.

He gestures to his friends with his glass and points at the bar.

Ginny and Goyle has joined them again, hands joined and heads nodding to the music. Harry stays at the bar until they announce the last song.

From here he can see the entire room. Luna and Parvati joins his side by the bar, ordering drinks and downing them under five minutes.

“It’s nice to have you join us again” Parvati says loudly in Harrys ear. “We missed you.”

Harry smiles at her, agreeing. It’s really nice to be out of the office again. Out from under his stone and catch up to the world.

And once again discovering Draco Fucking Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More moodsetters for you. If not, they are just really good songs!
> 
> Breaking me down - Soil  
Pizza - Attila

Draco is sweating.

His body is singing, blood pumping in his veins.

With a loose grip on the drumsticks he beats the snare drum, fast and raging in a blast beat.

Draco tilts his head up towards the ceiling, feeling the heat of the lamps, smiling.

He loves this feeling, so fucking alive, hot and messy and free. There is no end to what they can do up here, what he personally can express.

He loves being down there too, in the ocean of bodies, boiling with energy. It fascinates him how this type of music that sounds so raw, so brutal can be so full of joy.   
How roaring and shoving is an expression of love to the musicians on stage.

He loves being a part of it all, all the feelings he ever felt released through his skin, his pores, his being.

And now he is the one receiving this violent statement of love. He sings the lyrics loudly, no one can hear him anyway.

_Just tell me I am yours, _   
_Cuz you are mine._

The distorted guitar ripping its way out from the speakers.   
Tanner’s finger flashes over the strings in a complicated dance, his long black hair whipping in circles.

Draco's feet works the double kick drums, singing with the crowd, roaring his defiance.

Blaise nods with the beat and kicks his wire out of the way, a strobe light making it looks like slow motion.

Draco looks over the crowd and another grin breaks free when he spots two familiar girls kicking ass in the mosh pit.

Luna and Parvati, he notice, in blue and red lights, hair braided looking fierce.

Behind them he sees Greg and the Weaslette swaying together.

And then his eyes snag on something to their right.

A mess of black hair he would recognize anywhere.

The round glasses, scar, green eyes glaring daggers at Weasley.

Blaise approaches him when the last notes of the song fades out, foot on Draco’s little drumpodium.

“Fucking Potter’s here!” Draco shouts at him over the noise.

“Spotted him now did ya?! He’s been staring at you like an idiot for at least two songs now!” Blaise shouts back laughing, walking to the right corner of the stage, staring Potter down.

Draco has to stare too. It’s too funny.

He smirks, and just then Potter looks up at him. And proceeds to choke on his drink.

Draco can’t help but feel smug about it.

Tanner starts the next song with a wicked riff on his guitar.   
Draco twirls the drumsticks between his fingers and and then hits the cymbals hard.

Potter's eyes flickering around on the stage, finding Blaise.

Hilarious. Blaise is giving Potter his best_ Eat Shit_ smile, it is bloody perfection.

Potter is frowning, and oh, looking at Draco again. His confusion is incredible, the adrenaline from being on stage makes his heart beat hard.

Draco_ winks_ at him, and Potter looks as if struck by lighting.

Satisfied, Draco turns back to his music, mission complete.

It drags him under and he forgets everything but the feel of wood in his hand, the vibrations of the drums, the roar of the crowd.   
Every blow sends a spark up his arm.

He moves with the music, his hair falls in his face and his eyes.

Good thing he brought a change of clothes, his toptank clings to his torso.

_You can push me around   
but you can’t break me _   
_I’ll take it, make it mine,   
I’ll make it fucking better_

He mouth the words, feel them reverberate through him, out of him.

He feel it in his bones, in his past, and he throws it out at everyone watching him.

_Watch me take it, _   
_make it mine, _   
_make it fucking better _   
_Watch me take your fucking breath away _

He chances a look at Potter again.

He wonders if he knows. He feels tingles under his skin and he can’t stand Potter’s stare.

Draco breaks eye contact, and when next he looks back Potter is gone.

The roar of the crowd still rings in his ear when they get backstage.

It’s a tiny room with a couch and an adjacent bathroom. Their singer, Rufus, went straight for the bathroom, pissing with the door open.

“Hell guys, what a bloody show!” he calls hoarsely over the sloshing.

Tanner puts his guitar back in its case, closing the lid with a snap. Draco almost feels high.

He barely touched his beer up there but now he drinks it down in big gulps.   
Rufus flushes and throws a towel at Draco who catches it in the air.

“Who’s coming over to mine later?” Draco asks and wipes his face and neck with the soft material.

He loves nights like this. The next band on stage is the last ones up, which gives him time for a quick change and a beer before it’ll move to his flat.

“We’ll be there a bit later, I promised my girl a quick dinner after the show.” Tanner has been seeing Pansy for almost a year now, which for her must be some kind of record.

Draco snorts.

“Whipped.” Blaise mutters under his breath, but Draco knows he admires their relationship. Neither of them had that long with anybody yet, but he thinks Blaise’s not even trying.

Rufus throws himself on the couch, kicking of his shoes and placing them on the armrest.

“Sorry mate. I’m knackered and I still have tons of test to grade til Monday.” He drags a hand over his shaved head and yawns.

“Blaise?”

“Yeah, of course. Greg is out there waiting for us, just tell us when.”

Draco stops mid motion taking his tanktop off.

“Wait. Is the Weaslette joining too?”

“Have you seen him without her lately? At all?”

Malfoys heart makes a little kickflip in his chest.

“I'm guessing she’ll be bringing all the other Gryffindors then.”

Blaise looks up from where he was rolling up the cord and putting it in the case, smirking smugly.

“Yes Draco, Potter will be there.”

“Did you talk to him or something?” Draco asks, finishing undressing and changing into a fresh t-shirt.

“Don’t need to. I talked to Ginny, she is dead set on him joining her. Apparently he’s just home from Egypt or something.”

Draco just grunts, muttering a refreshment charm and pretending he’s not hanging on to every word he says.

Rufus looks up from the couch, eyebrows arched.

“Wait, that Potter? As in Vanquisher-of-dark-lords-and-the-subject-of-every-wet-dream-Draco-ever-had-Potter?”

Draco throws his sweaty towel right in Rufus laughing face just has he says “Now there’s something homework can wait for!”

“You’re not bloody coming.” Draco points a long finger and glares daggers at Rufus, but mostly at Blaise, whose fault it is that Rufus thinks that at all to begin with.

“No, but you might!” Blaise howls, highfiving a laughing Tanner as he walks past towards the door.

“You are all bloody univited” Draco scowls, giving them all the two fingered salute as he backs out through the door after Tanner.

Draco has the worst bloody friends.   
He hates them all, they suck and they should keep their gossipping mouths shut.   
They should actually not talk to each other at all, that would be brilliant.

He pushes through the mass of people, he needs a firewhiskey.  
Maybe two, thinking about it.

The music pounds its way through his body, lights glaring.

They don’t know what they are talking about anyway.

So what if he maybe might have been spending all of his schoolyears despising Potter, and so what if he was vocal about it.

Nope, any kind forgiving will have to wait until the firewiskey.   
Preferably one they pay for.

The bar is full of people trying to get the bartender's attention.

They removed all barstools before the concert, all the sweaty people with long hair and studded belts pressing up to each other.

Draco stands on the corner of the bar, he’s in no hurry. He knows Beth will notice him soon enough.

He looks at the people around the bar. Beth has a busy night indeed.

Two muggle girls approach Draco. One has a Crowbar T-shirt, and Draco has to smile.

They only started to sell them recently, and not because they need money. They really, really don’t.

Pansy mentioned it to Tanner that they could use something to _“claim”_ fans with.   
And as always, stuff Pansy mentions Tanner won’t let go of.

So he had a design made and put them out.

And apparently, fans like to feel claimed.

Draco is pretty sure that at least these girls see it as the other way around, as they reach him and definitely knows who he is.   
That’s why he knows they are muggle. They don’t hesitate to approach him even for a heartbeat.

That, and the cellphone one of them are clutching to her chest.

“Draco Malfoy right?” The bolder one with hair in black and purple asks loudly. “The drummer in Crowbar? Can we take a picture with you?”

“Of course” Draco smiles and the girl stands next to him.

“Oh wait.” The other girl with bright orange hair looks around and taps the shoulder of a nearby bloke in the crowd with… oh fuck… messy black hair.

The smile drains from Dracos lips and his heart gives an unhealthy kick.

“Excuse me? Can you take a picture of us please?"

Harry Bloody Potter turns around, because of course it has to be him.

He's wearing a dark blue t-shirt and black jeans, a flannelshirt tied around his narrow hips. Nothing special.

“Sure, no problem!” He recieves the phone from the girl and now he notice Draco.

They look at eachother one charged second as the orange girl stands on Dracos other side.

He snaps out of it, puts his arms over the girls shoulders.

Slowly Potter lift the camera and they pose. It’s the most awkward shit ever.   
Wait, no.

This is freaking hilarious.

Harry Potter is asked to take a picture with Draco’s fans.

If only his past self could see him now!

A satisfied smirk finds its way back to his lips, and he doesn’t look at the camera at all.   
He studies Potters face as he takes the picture. Potter’s face is carefully neutral, he snaps a picture and hands it back to the girls.

They look at it together in front of him, giving Draco a chance to approve of it, but he’s not watching.

No, Potter is watching him and he feels the electric crackles again.

“Thank you!” The two girls take their leave, stroking Draco’s arm in the passing. They smile flirtily back at him as they walk away.

Draco looks after them and shakes his head, smiling.

“Never thought I’d see the day, eh Potter?” Potters mouth actually twists into a halfsmile.

“Not something I ever imagined happening, no.” he agrees. Arse.

They look at each other a second longer kind of awkwardly.

Then Potter drags a hand through his already messy hair and steps next to him by the counter.

“So you’re in a band, huh?” he halfshouts over the music. Draco can’t help but sneer and roll his eyes.

“Attentive as always, Potter. Here I thought those hideous glasses were only for show.”

“Just making conversation.”

They are right back where they left off.   
Snide remarks and tense silence. Beth finally notice him and takes pity on his stupid, rude arse.

“What can I get for you?”

“How about a pint?”

“Make that two, on me.” Potter pipes up.

Draco looks at him, surprise evident.

“Uhh, happy birthday?”

“Er. Thank you, i guess?” He is not sure how to handle this. This is not really something they ever done.

“So uhm, thank you for inviting us to your birthday?” Potter tries for conversation as they wait for their beer.

And really, Draco sees no reason for telling him that it wasn’t really his doing.

“No problem. Would hate to see Weaslette out of her depth surrounded by us big bad Slytherins.”

Potter smiles again, and Dracos insides does that fluttery thing again.   
Damn it all.

“You’re really not, but yeah, considerate of you.”

Beth returns with their pints and puts them in front of them. Potter gives her a mugglebill and takes a sip.

Drace follow his example, Merlin knows he needs it.

“You looked good up there today.” Potter says over his drink giving him a sidelong look.

When Draco raises his eyebrows he must have realized how that sounded and splutters.

“I mean, not _you_, well, you too, but _all_ of you. The band. I mean, you guys looked good up there.”

Intresting. Draco smiles. He is a bit of a shit after all, how can he not poke at this?

“Why, Potter, are you a fan? Should we ask the girls to take a picture of us?”

“Shut up. Since when do you play drums anyway?”

Draco smirks.

“Since a few years back actually. Since when do you travel with the Ministry?”

“Since Hermione convinced me I should be her departments posterboy.”

The way he says it gives Draco the impression that the decision was rather onesided.

“She really is a bit terrifying.” Draco agrees.

They sip on their beers in silence for a beat.   
It is kind of hard to talk over the noise.

Suddenly arms manifest themselves around Potters chest.

Hermione-The-Terrifying’s rosy face appears over Potter’s shoulder, who almost chokes on his beer in surprise.

“Theeere you are!” She shouts in his ear. “Have I ever told you how nice you smell?!”

It would seem that Granger is rather drunk. Her soon-to-be husband appears next to her.

“Sorry Harry” Weasly laughs. “I think we’ve had a bit too much.”

Potter laughs with him and places an arm over Grangers in a sort of hug.

And it seems if one Gryffindor shows affection for another, the rest is summoned.

Nope, Draco is way to sober to deal with this.

He can see another ginger head approaching, and as much as he loves Greg he can’t deal with more of this.

A tactical retreat is in order.

“Thanks for the beer Potter. I have to go fix my things backstage, but I’ll see you all later?”

“We were actually thinking of going home soon.” Granger says, the same time Potter says “Sure.”

“Sorry Malfoy.” She actually looks a bit regretful.

“Okay” Draco says a bit slowly, trying not to look disappointed. It’s not like he wanted the three of them in his apartment anyway.

Because surely Potter is included in that ‘we’.

Potter seems to think so too, he straightens up a bit as if already getting ready to go.

“I’ll see you around then.” Draco is turning to go when he hears Weasly.

“_You_’ll stay, Harry. Ginny will kick your ass if you don’t go with her, you know.”

Draco decides he absolutely didn’t hear that, he does not wish to stay for this conversation so he just makes an awkward little wave and pretends his heartrate just went through the bloody roof. And just in time, because behind him it seems that the Weaslette has arrived and strongly agrees with her brother.

This is going to be such an interesting party.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bow Down - I prevail  
Let ‘em burn - Nothing more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a vastly different culture from my own, not to take your shoes off when entering someone's home. It’s SO weird. So many intresting things i have to take into consideration when I write haha. This chapter was a little shy at first, but now it's finally here! I hope you enjoy bad flirting and wierd diskussions haha. Enjoy!

The night feels cool against Harry’s bare arms.

He is following Ginny and Goyle, Hermione and Ron already long gone. Traitors.

They left him with his ex-girlfriend going to his ex-nemisis birthday party with a bunch of Slytherins. What kind of best-friends would do that?

Despite his best effort to be mad at them, he can’t help but be a little excited too.

A nervous jittery feeling is floating around just behind his ribs.

Goyle said that Malfoy and Zabini apparated from backstage with their stuff straight to Malfoys flat to open the floo for other guests.

And since none of the Gryffindors knows where Malfoy lives, Goyle realizes he has to be their guide.

He takes them outside and starts walking.

As Goyle points their direction Harry realizes that it is really not that far.   
The sky is clear, a soft wind follows them on their walk down the pavement. His friends are chattering around him and he can hear Lunas airy laugh behind him.

The fresh air fills his lungs and help him clear his head from the light buzz the alcohol placed there.

He can’t see the stars, but he pretends.

They arrive at a nice muggle building with modern touches. Goyle taps a code on the panel next to the door, which buzzes its approval, and lets them in.

They climb what feels like a million stairs and reach the top floor.

Ginny bounces up the stairs with ease, barely breaking a sweat.

Luna, Parvati and Harry is not so lucky.

They wheeze and swear their way up the stairs.

“Who in their right mind chooses an apartment on the topfloor without an elevator?!” Parvati complains for at least the third time.

Harry has no breath left to answer her.

One would think he would fair rather well in this realm of physical exertion, and stairs aren’t usually his arch nemesis.

But he seems to have offended these specific staircases, and thus, they never end.

The only reason he isn’t apparating now is because it would feel like the stairs would win.

That, and potential muggles, of course.

But mostly the thought of losing to bloody stairs.

Ginny and Goyle are waiting for him on the landing above them.

Ginny grins at him, and damn her for not suffering with them. He glares at her, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

Harry defeats the last step and he catches his breath outside a weirdly anonymous door.   
Not that he spent any time before this exact moment on how Malfoys door would look. Or where he would live. It is despite that fact not at all what he imagined.

Just a plain brown door with a little plait with Malfoy's name on.

No fancy decoration, no snakes, no ominous smoke floating from under the door.

It’s the only door though, so it seems Malfoy has the entire top floor.

Goyle makes a quick headcount, he lost no Gryffindors to the Evil Stairs, and lets them inside.

As soon as he opens the door, loud music escapes the Muffliato put upon the door. They hurry inside, closing the door behind them quickly.

It didn’t take them that long to get here from the pub but they can already hear people chatting in another room.

Luna and Parvati leave Harry behind and walk towards the sound of people.  
He follows them through the hallway and into a big living room. Harry takes in his surroundings.

It is classy and yes, very expensive looking, but whatever Harry decided it should look like in here, it doesn’t.

It has soft blue walls, big windows and dark overfilled bookshelves.   
The room is dominated by a large couch in soft dark leather, the walls covered in paintings, photos and even framed posters of bands. Big green plants ornate chosen spots here and there in the room, none of them appearing to be venomous or flesheating.

And then Harry takes in the people surrounding him. Right now it’s about 15 people in the room, themselves included, and it still doesn’t feel crowded.

The five of them that walked here, Malfoy and Zabini chatting with two people he vaguely recognizes from the ministry, for some reason Neville Longbottom and Hanna Abbot with a group of people on the couch that he doesn’t recognize at all.

So this group is the only ones who didn’t know where Malfoy lives.

He follows the others towards a table by the wall, full of liquor bottles and glasses.

It seems their host don’t mind sharing his drinks.   
He chooses a bottle almost at random when one of the photos in front of him catches his eye.

A smiling Malfoy, a cool Narcissa looks into the camera and a very awkward Lucius looking away, phramed in a simple wooden frame.

Harry studies the picture, squinting his eyes, and then it clicks.

The photo isn’t moving. When Harry looks around, he realize none of the photos are.

Nor the paintings. He cocks his head to the side, then taking a sip of his drink. It’s very good actually.

Parvati pokes his side.

“What got our Saviour so dark and brooding?”

“I'm not brooding. Just noticed Malfoy either spelled all his photos still or it’s all muggle pictures.”

Harry takes another sip as Parvati looks around.

“Huh. Imagine that conversation. ‘Hi my lovely and not at all stuck up parents, I would like to eternalize a moment with you using the technology of the simple and barbaric people living outside our gates. Please say _Cheese!_’.”

Harry snorts, seeing it quite clearly in his head. The poor photographer.

“To be a fly on that oh so fancy wall that day.” He agrees.

“I think it would be a very rich experience actually. I always wanted to know what it’s like to have that kind of eyes.” Luna chirps in, turning to them with a peculiarly coloured drink in her hand.

“Yes, but the life of a fly is rather short, don’t you think?” Parvati asks her.

“That is indeed something I would have to take into consideration.” Luna says thoughtfully.   
Then she drifts away and joins the people on the couch that Harry doesn’t recognize. She sits herself right between Hanna and Neville, joining the conversation flawlessly.

“I wish I could do that. Just sit down and blend perfectly into any company.” Harry muses, smiling at the group who merely raises their eyebrows before accepting Lunas sudden presence.

“It’s a talent. And with being Harry Potter, that might be really hard.” Parvati agrees.

She pats him on the shoulder and joins Ginny and Goyle on the other side of the room by the window.

Feeling abandoned Harry looks around. He walks to a corner and just, awkwardly stands there.   
Bloody hell he wish Ron and Hermione were here.

Harry looks at Malfoy again, barely seeing the bully he knew from school. He looks relaxed and confident. 

The tattoos on his left arm climbing from his wrist and up under his t-shirt.

Harry’s traitorous brain wonders what other sights the T-shirt hides before he can shut it up.

And now that's something circling in his head. Thanks brain, way to go.

He can feel his cheeks get hotter, and before he can avert his eyes, Malfoy's eyes meet his.

Why does he _always_ have something in his mouth when this happens? Harry manages with poor grace not to choke, clearing his throat repeatedly.

Malfoy smirks, and to Harry's infinite horror, walks over.

“Still alive, Potter?”

“Barely. But a big bad Slytherin came to save me.”

Merlin, Harry apparently has lost all filters between brain and mouth. His face burns.   
Why did that sound so much like flirting?

Malfoy just snorts and Harry wants to die a little.

“Hrm. What’s up with all these photos by the way?”

“What about them?”

“Are they actually muggle?”

Malfoy sighs, waving his hand in an exasperated gesture.

“Of all the things in my home, that's what you notice?”

“Was I supposed to notice something else?"

At that Malfoy looks at Harry. They stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“Your glasses really are for show, aren’t they? Or is it your brain that’s just… stupid?”

“Creative insults. Ten points to Slytherin. What are you, ten years old?”

Instead of getting mad as Harry expected, Malfoy grins and bumps Harry’s shoulder with his.

“Shut up, scarhead.”

“Make me.” It slips out before he can shut himself up.

It’s familiar banter, but with Malfoy smiling at him, it doesn’t feel at all like in the past.

Harry realizes they are standing rather close, shoulders still touching. Malfoy's eyes travels up and down his face, almost considering.

And then someone calls Malfoy's name.

“Maybe later, Potter.” He mumbles, giving a faint smile and walk away.

Harry leans against the wall. Blinks a few times.  
Drinks.

It took Ginny exactly 15 seconds less to appear than he expected.

He did however not expect her to just stand there. Staring at him.

“What?”

She just continues to stare at him, shocked smile on her lips.

“Whaaat?”

“Did you and Draco just have a moment?”

“_Draco_?”

“Yes, that’s his name, keep up!”

“Since when do you call him Draco?”

“Since I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, come on Harry. Tell me!”

Harry doesn't know how to answer.   
Those 15 seconds would have been great to compose himself, calm his beating heart, understand what the fuck just happened.

'_Maybe Later’_???

Stalling, he sips on his drink again.

_Maybe later_ is echoing around his head, bouncing around, doing damage.

Ginny stares at him with barely contained mirth. What is it with the women in his life being excited about him and Dra- Malfoy?!

“We were uhm… talking about his photos?”

Ginny does not buy his bullshit.

“Talking about Draco's photos does not make him give you-” Ginny looks Harry up and down with very over-the-top bedroom eyes “_THAT_ look.”

Harry blushes but trying to appear unaffected.

“He insulted me for noticing them, and I gave Slytherin 10 points for it?”

“That… why are you guys so weird?”

“I don’t know, he started it!”

“What are you, ten?”

“Shut up.You wanted to know.”

This is a strange repeat of the conversation he just had. Harry looks around the room again, trying not to look for the lanky tattooed guy in question.

“I guess it makes sense though” Ginny says, thinking about it. “There is no worrying about the pizzaguys noticing anything weird, or a muggle hookup to freak out.”

Oh. Well of course there would be hookups.

Another thing Harry didn’t imagine about Malfoy, and one he doesn’t really care for.

Well, who would actually walk around thinking of random people hooking up?   
He stares at the floor, decidedly not imagining Malfoy being pressed up against the wall. Forehead all sweaty, his hair sticking to it. The little sounds he would make when being kissed on the neck.

And suddenly Harry very much want Ginny to be somewhere else. He very much don’t want her to figure out what he isn’t imagining.

“I'm gonna go… look for the bathroom.” Harry hands his drink over to Ginny. “Could you hold this for me?”

She accepts it from him, giving him an amused look. She truly knows him too well, she knows exactly what's inside his head.

“Shut up, Ginny.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it. I’ll be right back.”

“Don't get lost!”

And with that, Harry has successfully run away. He flees out the hallway he came from and starts the search for something to notice about Draco Malfoy's home

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this vision of Draco behind the drums, enjoying every moment of it. Sweaty hair in his eyes, hot as hell arms as he beats up those drums. And Harry totally likes this vision as much as I do. I hope you all will like it, I didn't plan for it to become this long but now I kinda enjoy it. More is coming up as soon as I can!  
Lots of love!


End file.
